


Olive Branch

by Evelyn6



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Post episode: s06e06, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8431828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evelyn6/pseuds/Evelyn6
Summary: When Belle stopped by to drop off the sonogram, Rumplestiltskin was alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> How I wish that scene would have gone...
> 
> I wrote a pre-episode version called 'Beginnings,' which is similar but possibly better headcanon if you're as in need as I am of some fluff after last night. Here's the link:
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8331763

Rumplestiltskin swirled the amber liquid in the glass before him before he downed the entire portion in one gulp, relishing the way the alcohol burned his throat as he stared at the curtain that divided the front and back rooms of the pawn shop. His eyes were glassy, but not so much from the drink as from the tears that refused to stop burning at the corners as he replayed - again and again - the last words he'd spoken to his wife.

The drink wasn't helping with the guilt, nor with the pent up frustration that seemed ready to swallow him whole. It did nothing to quell the ache in his chest as he yearned for her - actually fucking _yearned_ for her warmth and the blue of her eyes and the sound of her voice. She could yell at him all she liked if she could just _be_ there, in front of him, rather than wherever she was at the moment.

He could feel her, like a vision that was just out of sight or a word on the tip of his tongue. His magic was as connected to her as it was to him and it hummed faintly, ever-present just beneath his skin. It was agonizing, to feel her presence ghosting over him as it tugged at his heart, urging him to find her - always. To have her be so close, and yet so very far away.

He knew he'd mucked everything up - yet again. Of course he had. All he'd wanted to do was keep her safe. He'd told himself it was worth the price of her anger if it kept her safe. The problem was, it hadn't. She had been in danger and he'd done nothing but keep her trapped on that ship while she faced Jekyll, left to watch helplessly, yet again, as someone he loved was threatened.

He should have listened. He should have explained. He should have done a million other things but he never quite managed to, and it left him sitting in his empty shop, the sign turned to closed because he couldn't be bothered to face anyone as he tried to drink away the sorrow that clenched around his fractured heart.

He was making a pretty good dent in his alcohol supply though. Not that it was helping anything. He was still alone and his chest still ached and he didn't know it was possible for one's eyes to hurt so badly just from staving off tears.

The sound of shuffling from somewhere in front of the shop almost went unnoticed as he poured himself another glass of Scotch, but his magic thrummed in that way that it did only when Belle was around. Despite himself, he felt his breath catch and his heart picked up speed as he thrust back his chair and pushed himself away from the desk in such a rush that he tripped over his feet.

He hesitated at the curtain, both nervous and afraid he was simply imagining her. His fingers curled over the weight of the heavy fabric, hardly daring to pull it back, but the buzzing of his magic only increased as he got closer and he couldn't help but push the curtain aside to peer through the front of the shop. The shop lighting was musty as ever, but the blinds were cracked just enough that he could see the figure outside clear as day. He would have recognized her anywhere, of course, the gentle curve of her waist and the long tresses he would never tire of running his fingers through.

Belle was hesitating on the sidewalk outside the shop, shifting on her feet as she contemplated the door, bottom lip pulled between her teeth in indecision, and despite everything he melted at the small gesture. It was so contrary to the Belle who had faced him at the docks, her chin held high and something between passion and fury raging in her beautiful blue eyes. He wasn't sure what he saw on her face now, whether the guilt he saw tugging at her mouth was hers or his because he had lost track these past few weeks.

All he knew was that he wanted her to come inside more than he wanted to take his next breath. He didn't care if it was to yell at him or tell him she was going to continue staying on that bloody ship or curse him to the Underworld and back for that stupid protection spell, he just wanted _her._  


He whimpered when she finally stepped towards the door, and he heard the knob creak and the bell jingle as she pushed the door open and took a small step inside. He was frozen in the doorway to the back room, his hand still holding the curtain aside and his eyes wide, pleading, as he looked at her. He was too much of a wreck to be capable of schooling his features. The frustration and bitterness he'd felt last time had already been spent - poured into selfish words and harsh glares that left him feeling so very empty at that moment that he couldn't manage anything but need.

She didn't look angry when she spotted him staring at her. Her eyes didn't narrow suspiciously, nor did she raise her chin or straighten her shoulders. This wasn't his defiant, independent little firecracker of a wife. It was the smaller, softer Belle that had stood before his shop, hesitating to come inside, that gave him a nervous smile as she closed the door behind her. It didn't quite meet her eyes, but he breathed a sigh of relief that she seemed as unable as he to continue pretending that their separation wasn't weighing heavily on both their shoulders.

"Hey," she whispered quietly.

He still hadn't regained the use of his limbs, but he managed a shaky, "Hey," back, his voice catching at the simple pleasure he felt well in his chest at the sight of her.

She was fiddling with something in her hands, he noticed then. His eyes dropped to the yellow envelope in her fingers, and perhaps it was the freedom from her blue eyes that finally got him moving, but he let go of the curtain and stepped into the front room. He hesitated at the counter, unsure if he should place it between them. She might appreciate the distance, but a part of him couldn't bear it. Literal or figurative, the thought of even more distance between them made his eyes burn again, so he moved in front of it and clasped his hands together so she knew he wouldn't do anything more but wait for her next move.

"I, uh," she started to say, taking a few steps closer, "was hoping we could talk for a moment?"

He nodded, a bit too eager, but Belle seemed to let out a breath of relief so he didn't regret it too much.

"Of course," he added for good measure.

She looked down at the envelope, turning it around in her hands with a little knot in her brow. It seemed like ages before she finally looked up, but when she did there was certainty in her eyes and in the set of her jaw.

"I wanted to show you something," she said as she offered the envelope to him.

He swallowed as he looked between the off-yellow paper and her face. His thoughts, of course, immediately went to the worst possible outcome, though he reckoned divorce papers couldn't possibly be so small. Still, the possibility wrapped itself around his heart, squeezing none-too-gently as panic fluttered in his chest.

His fingers were trembling as he took the envelope, and at her encouraging look he opened one end to peek inside. His brow furrowed in confusion as he withdrew a small photo, but for a long moment he didn't quite realize what he was looking at. All it showed was a variation of grays and whites and he blinked back incomprehensibly as he tried to figure out what it was. 

He heard Belle giggle at his side, a miraculous sound that caught his attention at once, and he looked up to find her smiling. Actually smiling. At _him._  


"It's a sonogram," she explained. "They have a machine that lets us see the baby as he grows." She pointed to a spot on the photo that looked like a gray blob within a black circle. "That's our son, Rumple."

He looked back at the photo with a small gasp, feeling his heart jump into his throat as his knees buckled. 

_Their son._

While he had known that Belle was pregnant -had even seen a vision of his adult son - it hadn't quite felt as real as it did right then. He looked down at the grayscale photo with fascination and wonder, his chest feeling like it couldn't quite hold all the joy he felt. 

Somehow, as mucked up as it all was at the moment, he had a family again. A second chance. And while nothing and no one could ever replace the space that Baelfire would always hold in his heart, he loved this child with everything he had left. Every inch of his battered, blackened, but so very desperate soul.

"Rumple, are you alright?" Belle's soft voice asked beside him, worry coloring her accent. 

He tried to answer her, but he couldn't find the words to express just how much this meant to him; just how much he loved her and their child and how he would do anything - anything at all - to keep them safe. How he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and forget the places where they were broken and simply hold her; perhaps he could hold her tight enough to put it all back together again so they could be a family. Their son was such simple, astounding proof of what their love was capable of. Beside that, everything else seemed to fall away and he would give anything to just start over - him, Belle, and their child. But he couldn't find the words to tell her so. 

Instead, his tears finally spilled over, trailing little paths over his cheeks to land on the back of his hands where they were still clutched around the photo of their child. Belle made a small sound beside him. He'd barely had time to hear it before he felt the weight of her hand on his arm and he managed to look up to find her watching him. He was so very scared he would see derision there, but her eyes were warm - so very warm - in that way he had started to fear he might never see again. 

He cleared his throat as he tried to pull himself back together again, the tears ceasing as he sniffed and shifted on his feet. 

"Yes," he choked out, setting the photo on the counter gently. "I, um... Thank you. For the picture."

Belle still had her hand on his arm, the warmth of her skin seeping through the layers of his clothing to somehow work its way into his own, warming him from the inside out. He could feel her looking at him, could see the way her chin tilted even though he couldn't quite meet her eyes. If he looked at her, he might hug her, and he knew it wouldn't be welcome. He was quite happy to look at her stomach anyway, that disbelieving joy still running through him at the idea of the child she was nurturing there. 

"I thought you should have it," she said quietly, finally (unfortunately) letting her hand drop. 

"Did everything else go alright? You and the baby... You're both okay?" he asked earnestly. 

"The doctor says we're both healthy," she said, and when he heard the smile in her voice he risked glancing at her. 

"Good. That's good."

There was a pause, then, as Belle considered her next words.

"I have another appointment in a few weeks," she said, watching him carefully. 

"Oh?" he stammered. 

"I'd... I'd like you to come. If you want to, that is," she offered. 

That got his attention and his wide eyes whirled to her face. His own broke into a grin, the mere idea that she was giving him a chance to be involved - that she wanted him with her at all - making him heady with gratitude. 

"I'd like that."

Belle smiled and gave a little nod, and he couldn't stop staring at the way the corner of her mouth dimpled. Gods, how he had missed her.

He tried not to make a sound of dismay when she took a step away from him, looking as if she was going to leave. His mind screamed at him to find a way for her to stay, even just a moment longer. He didn't want to go back to his cold shop after she left, back to being alone after feeling the warmth of her presence once again. 

But in the end, Belle turned around first, and in a blur of motion she was back in front of him, grabbing the lapels of his suit and tugging him towards her. Her lips were on his a moment later, blissfully soft and everything he remembered, and his body responded instantly in the wake of her touch, her mouth against his. He wasn't sure who moaned, but he was the one to reach up and cup her face between his palms. She was the one to press closer to him, molding her curves into his as her hips twisted and he jerked against her as he slanted his mouth to deepen the kiss. 

When he felt her tongue rasp over his bottom lip, he parted his mouth with a groan of pleasure, and a shiver worked its way down his spine when she sucked his lip between her teeth and nibbled gently. When she released him, it was only to press closer and brush her tongue over his, encouraging him until he followed her into her own mouth to explore. He felt his whole body hum at the first taste of her on his tongue, the sweetness of her favorite tea lingering in her mouth as he sought out all the places that made her tremble. 

He would have stood there for hours doing nothing but kissing her had Belle not suddenly pulled away, her breath ragged as she pressed her forehead against his. He was shaking like a leaf himself, still surprised at the turn of events and wishing he could go back to them. 

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have... I'm sorry."

He wanted to tell her she didn't have to be, that kissing her could never be a mistake, that he loved her, but instead he leaned back and kissed her forehead, hoping she understood. She stepped out of his arms, and he willed them to stay at his sides rather than reach for her, though his hands were still itching to do so. 

"I have to -" she said, gesturing in the direction of the door. He understood. They weren't ready for that, not yet. And if they got started, it would just make everything more complicated. So as much as he wanted to beg her to stay, he nodded. 

She let out a breath of relief and turned towards the door. Her hand was resting on the handle when she paused and looked over her shoulder. 

"I'm not staying on the ship," she said suddenly. "I got a room at Granny's. Maybe we can meet there for lunch? Before my appointment?" 

Gold felt his heart spark to life in his chest, hope surging through him. "I'd like that."

Belle smiled, and then the bell jingled as she swept out of the shop. He watched her cross the street, smiling at both the prospect of the coming week and the extra bounce he saw in her step, at the taste of her still lingering on his tongue and the sappy smile he couldn't stop from spreading over his face. It wasn't much, he knew, but it was a start. It was hope. A chance he didn't deserve and yet somehow had, once again. 

He picked up the photo from where it rested against the counter, his finger tracing the small spot in the center. _His family._ He couldn't think of anything else more worth fighting for. 

"Hello, wee one," he said around a smile. "It's nice to finally see you."


End file.
